


in radio nothing happens (until the announcer says it happens)

by playingbloodyknuckles



Series: However improbable [2]
Category: Andi Mack (TV)
Genre: College AU, M/M, Radio AU i guess?, TJ is a disaster gay, and now is not showing on tags, ao3 is not letting me post it this is biphobia, theres flirting and a lot of reddened cheeks, this is basically fluff and an attempt at humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-02
Updated: 2019-05-02
Packaged: 2020-02-15 15:10:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18672172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/playingbloodyknuckles/pseuds/playingbloodyknuckles
Summary: When people ask him why he listens to that midnight show on the college radio every time he has to stay up finishing work, TJ always says that the music they play is great for studying. Soothing, you know.Good for focusing.Sure.(aka the AU in which TJ has a crush on the host of the music show of his college radio and he suffers through a lot of Troye Sivan just to hear his voice)





	in radio nothing happens (until the announcer says it happens)

**Author's Note:**

> I've been dealing with the hiatus by writing AUs to forget 3x13, so this is the result. Disclaimer: I know absolutely nothing about american colleges, so I don't know how accurate this is lmao.  
> (And before starting, English is not my native language, so if you see any mistake (I hope there isn't any tbh but it's not exactly proofread) feel free to point it out!)

_Hello everyone, and welcome to The midnight show, the music show in your good old college radio that keeps you company during the late hours while you are writing an essay due the next day._

TJ can’t help an ironic laugh when he hears that. Well, more than a laugh is just blowing air out of his nose with a little more force than usual. It’s currently midnight and he still has to finish this essay and then read two chapters for the next day, so that is the closest to a laugh anyone is going to get out of him. 

_I’m your host, and I’m delighted to be here. Sure, it was a long battle getting where I am today, getting your own show even in a college radio is hard. But I finally made it. By feinting to my left and then squeezing through the studio door when the boss was off balance._

This time, TJ actually laughs. He shakes his head, a smile still on his lips while he reaches for the volume knob in the old radio his grandfather gifted him a long time ago. The intro music of the show reverberates in his dimly lighted room. Thank God he has a single, or his roommate would have killed him already after so many sleepless nights finishing work while the radio is on.

If he is being honest the music that his college radio plays is usually not the type of music he listens to, he is more of a classic rock kind of guy. But when people –mostly Reed, with a sneer– ask why he listens to that midnight show every time he has to stay up finishing work, TJ always says that is good music for studying. Soothing, you know. 

Good for focusing.

Sure.

_I barricaded the door, so don’t you worry, the show will go on no matter what. We have Troye Sivan on tap tonight, along with a little Harry Styles and a healthy serving of Chase Atlantic. So let’s start the night with a favorite of mine, “Youth”._

Ok, so maybe he has a soft spot for the host of the radio show that has kept him company so many nights. And his dorky humor and cheesy lines and deep voice. 

Sue him, he is only human. 

He taps his feet along the music while he forces himself to write something on his computer. God, this essay is going to be really bad, but at least he is going to have something to turn in. He swears under his breath, cursing the day that he thought that going to college was a good idea.

Go to college with a basketball scholarship, they said. Student athletes have so much fun, they said. If it wasn’t for all his away games and really badly scheduled practices he wouldn’t be so acquainted with the mysterious host of The midnight show. 

TJ is not sure how many people listen to the college radio, let alone the show that airs at midnight, but sometimes he asks himself if other people wonder who the guy that hosts the show is. If they wonder what is his name, or his major, or how he looks like. 

_This is a reminder that you are listening to The midnight show, in case you forgot. Next up is Older by Sasha Sloan, hope you all enjoy it._

The gentle voice snaps him out of his trance, and TJ shakes his head, trying to stop thinking about other things that are not all the work he still has to do.  
TJ sighs, fishing one of the books he checked out of the library out of the mess he has created on his desk. 

He actually manages to work for a while, the soft music and occasional commentary keeping him company, until he realizes he is yawning more often than he is writing words. 

God, it’s one am and the host of the show is playing the slowest songs in the world. TJ rubs his eyes, wondering why he can’t play a little Led Zeppelin or Scorpions or at least something that won’t send him directly into a coma. 

_It’s one am in the morning and I hope you are at least halfway your essay. This is a reminder that since last week our lines are open and you can call to complain about your unfinished work if that is going to make you feel better. Please refrain from insulting your professors; I really don’t want to be kicked out of the radio._

TJ’s eyes shot up to the transistor on his desk, as if the answer to all the questions he currently has in his head could be found there. But there is only the beaten up radio and the voice of the radio host reminding the listeners of the number they have to call. TJ founds himself grabbing for his phone and saving the number without even realizing it.

“Well,” TJ says to no one “It’s not like I’m going to call or anything”

There is always a point in his energy drink-fueled essay writing when TJ starts talking to himself. It’s usually a little later, when the sun is rising and he starts to contemplate the idea of running away and living in the woods, but it seems that the notion of being able to talk one on one with the host of the radio show has made him lose the last shred of sanity he was keeping intact. 

“Yeah,” TJ mutters, pinching the bridge of his nose lightly “Of course I’m not calling”

_Okay, and now back to music. We have Troye Sivan again. This is “The good side”_

The first notes of the song start playing, and TJ can’t help a yawn. He breathes deeply, phone still on his hand and his thumb hovering over the contact info he just saved.

He calls.

-

Cyrus sighs audibly once the song starts playing. He is getting pretty used to staying up late for the radio show, and he loves it, he really does, but there are days when it’s harder than others, especially when his day has been packed with classes. 

Suddenly, the phone starts ringing. It’s the first time that has happened since he had incorporated open lines to the radio show. He freezes, knowing what he has to do but panicking at the thought. 

“Ok,” he says to himself. He breathes deeply, closing his eyes for a second. “Here we go”

He presses the button to receive calls, not entirely sure what to expect.

“Hello” Cyrus says in the cheery voice he usually uses while doing the radio show “You are on air on The midnight show!”

There’s static on the other end of the line and a faint voice.

“Eh, hi” the disembodied voice says. It sounds like a guy, voice deep and raspy “I don’t really call to talk or anything, just have kind of a request”

The caller seems unsure, making the sentence sound more like a question, and Cyrus is dreading the petition. This definitely sounds like a prank call. 

“Yeah, sure” Cyrus says, instead of hanging up which is what he really wants to do “What is it?”

“Can you play something a little bit more lively?” 

“Like what?” Cyrus asks. He knows he should have asked for the caller’s name, but he went directly for the request and now Cyrus doesn’t really know how to broach the subject.

“I don’t know, maybe Led Zeppelin, Bon Jovi, something like that?”

“Oh my god, you have the same music taste as my step-dad” Cyrus says, without being able to help the rolling of his eyes.

“He must be really cool, then” the caller says, and even if Cyrus can’t see him, he is pretty sure he is smiling. 

“Well, he recreates famous battles with figurines in our basement, you tell me”

The mystery caller chuckles good-naturedly and Cyrus bites down his smile just like he would if there was someone there that could see how much he is actually enjoying this. 

“Ouch, that hurt” he says, amused.

“Life is tough” Cyrus laughs, settling back on his chair and stretching his arms over his head “What song do you want me to play, eh-“

There is a pause, where Cyrus waits for the caller to tell him his name, but for a second there is only silence at the other end of the line. 

“TJ” the caller finally answers “My name is TJ”

Cyrus smiles, satisfied “Ok, what song do you want me to play, TJ?”

TJ hums, and Cyrus can hear shuffling on the other side of the line “How about “Who are you” by The Who?”

“Ok, I can do that” Cyrus mutters while looking through the computer to make sure he actually can play that. He doesn’t worry too much about the lyrics because not a lot of people listen to his show so he is not going to get complaints from anyone probably.

“And since we are on this topic,” TJ’s voice rises a little, faking nonchalance “Who are you? You know my name but I don’t know yours”

Cyrus flinches, not expecting that question “I’m sorry?”

“I was wondering what your name was” TJ says, but he sounds a lot more hesitant now. Cyrus can imagine TJ, even if he doesn’t know him, slumping on his chair and picking at his fingernails. 

There is a part of him that wants to tell him his name, of course. But there is also a part of him that is still worried that this is some sort of elaborate prank. 

“You see, TJ, “Cyrus says, and he hears him breathing at the other side of the line “I have never told my name on air, I’m kind of a vigilante. The music radio DJ kind, but one nonetheless”

TJ laughs, and Cyrus breaths deeply, relieved as the tension seems to disappear.

“Oh yeah?” 

Cyrus freezes. There is a voice on his brain going “Was that flirting?” on loop for a while before he recovers his ability to talk. 

“Yeah” he answers, and he hates how flustered he actually sounds “My superhero name is The host of that radio show no one actually listens to. The host for short, all caps”

TJ snorts, and Cyrus can’t help the smile that has been growing on his face. There are a lot of questions he wants to know the answer to but doesn’t dare to ask. He wonders how TJ looks like and why he is awake at this hour and why he listens to this radio station if he actually prefers classic rock.

Suddenly, he realizes there is a light on the panel, which means that he has another call. That’s weird; he had never received a call until today.

“We have another call” Cyrus says in that cheerful tone again “I’m going to put you on hold for a while, TJ, your song will have to wait”

Cyrus actually manages to put the call on hold and answer the new one by pressing a few buttons.

“Hello, you are on air on The midnight show!” 

“You know,” the new caller says with a lazy tone “As much as I enjoy your flirty banter I would like to hear some music”

Cyrus frowns, recognizing the voice in just an instant.

“Marty, it’s nearly two in the morning and you have an eight am class, what are you doing awake?”

Marty grunts, displeased with the reminder “The group chat was going crazy about how you are flirting with someone on air so I had to check”

Cyrus sputters “I’m not flirting with anyone”

Is he? His mind goes over the conversation he just had with TJ, every single thing he remembers saying, trying to find an indication of some flirting. 

God. He really is flirting with a faceless stranger, isn’t he?

“If you say so” Marty says, and Cyrus can imagine the half-shrug and the grin that he is sporting right now. 

“Go to sleep, Marty”

Cyrus fumbles with the buttons until he finds the one that ends the call. He sighs loudly, shaking his head. 

“Hi? I’m back on air again?” TJ’s voice fills the studio, and Cyrus sits straight up.

“Hi, yes, you are” Cyrus hates how his voice sounds high-pitched and unsure “Hello again”

“Hello again” TJ chuckles, and Cyrus feels warm all over “You see, I agree with whoever Marty is. I enjoy the banter very much”

Cyrus feels his face flush, and he is really happy that there is no one there to see it, because his friends wouldn’t let him hear the end of it. 

“Well, that’s-“Cyrus doesn’t even know how to end that sentence “That’s nice”

“It is” TJ’s voice is deep and is starting to sound even flirtier, and Cyrus heart is doing somersaults on his chest “But I have an essay due tomorrow, so maybe we could continue this over a coffee sometime?”

Cyrus is not proud to admit that he actually falls off his chair after hearing that. 

And on his way down he manages to press each and every one of the buttons on the panel, ending the call.

-

At the other end of the line, TJ first hears a really loud noise and then nothing. 

“Hello?”

No one answers. He looks at the screen of his phone, where his wallpaper pretty much confirms him that the host just hanged up on him.

He covers his face with his hands, slumping on his chair. Why did he have to say that? Now he probably hates him. 

His hand reaches for the volume knob on the radio. He had turned it all the way down so he wouldn’t hear the voice of the host on his phone and then as an echo on the radio. He turns up the volume again, dreading what he is about to hear. 

_Shit. Hello? Are you there?_

TJ freezes still stretching across the desk to reach the radio, his hand on the volume dial.

_Oh, sorry, I’m not supposed to swear._

TJ can’t help the hasty laugh that blooms on his chest. He grabs his phone so quickly that he nearly gives himself whiplash and manages to accidentally kick down the empty energy drink he had on his desk. 

He is ready to dial the number of the radio show, when the voice of the host interrupts him.

_Oh, he is calling again, thank God._

TJ looks down to his phone. He doesn’t understand anything; he is not the one calling.

_Sorry, TJ, I accidentally ended the call._

And then there’s static and a voice that is definitely not TJ’s.

 _TJ listen to this, his name is Cyrus and his Instagram is cyrusgreatman,_ the new caller says. It’s a girl’s voice, and she sounds amused and confident, like she is used to tease him. 

TJ can hear the host gasp.

_Oh my God, Andi, really?_

_Look, Buffy and I want to go to sleep, so we felt like giving you a little push would help things move along_

TJ laughs, still not believing that this is actually happening. He grabs a pen he had lying around and writes the Instagram handle in one of his papers so he doesn’t forget.

Cyrus. He likes how the name feels on his tongue.

_That’s- Go to sleep, Andi. And I hope you and Buffy know that it’s the last time you’ll do it. Because I’ll kill you both tomorrow._

_Oh, come on-_

And the sudden click informs TJ that the line is not occupied anymore, so he should actually call before any of the host friends manages to beat him to it again. 

TJ feels his pulse quicken, his heart stammering on his chest. 

He calls again. 

-

Cyrus hides his face on his hands. God, this show has become a mess and everything is going wrong and he is going to kill Andi first thing tomorrow. 

He is thinking about how he should probably play music in case someone is actually listening when the light on the panel informs him that there is a new call. 

If it’s one of his friends again he is leaving the radio forever. He breathes deeply, trying to calm down, and presses the button to answer the call. 

“Hello,” he says in a tired voice, his cheery tone long forgotten “You are on air on the midnight show”

“Well, I finally know your name, Cyrus” 

TJ’s voice sounds amused and flirty, and it makes something flutter on Cyrus’ stomach. He wonders if he is looked through his Instagram and if he still wants to get a coffee with him. 

“There goes my whole secret identity” Cyrus says, chuckling lightly. He feels his cheeks start to redden and his heart pick up the pace on his chest. 

TJ laughs, and even with the background noise of the studio it sounds beautiful. It makes Cyrus smile widely without even realizing.

“You know, the coffee offer is still on if you want to”

Cyrus breath hitches on his throat, and he knows he has to reply. He also knows that he wants to say yes, that he feels comfortable with this guy even if he practically only knows his name. 

“How do I know you are not a serial killer?” he asks instead. His brain is telling him to be careful, his heart is screaming at him to jump.

“We can meet somewhere public and I can give you my Instagram so you can see I’m a normal human being” TJ says, his voice composed but with a hint of laughter on it. 

Cyrus breathes deeply, and for once, he decides to jump. “Ok, I’d like that”

“Really?” TJ’s tone makes it sounds like he didn’t expect that to be Cyrus’ answer. Cyrus feels his whole body warm up “I’ll slid into your DM’s then”

“Please, don’t say that ever again”

TJ laughs again on the other side of the line, he sounds wide awake even if it’s nearly three am, and Cyrus can’t help the nervous laughter that starts on his throat. 

“I’m going to finish this essay first” TJ says “And tomorrow we can decide on a date?”

“That sounds good” Cyrus heart is racing and he is unable to sit still, his whole body tingling with anticipation. 

“See you soon, Cyrus”

“Goodnight, TJ”

Cyrus doesn’t end the call this time. He waits for a while, hearing TJ breath lightly on the other end of the line until he finally hangs up. 

He wants to squeal and jump around but then he remembers he is still on air. He sits straight again on his chair, looking for his playlists on the computer.

“Ok,” he says, after pressing a few buttons “the next song is “What’s going on”, the version by U2”

Once the song is playing he grabs his phone and realizes that, apart from the hundreds of messages on the group chat, he has a new Instagram notification. TJ Kippen is now following him. And when he enters on his profile he realizes that TJ Kippen is an incredibly handsome guy with gripping green eyes.

A new notification pops up on his phone before he has time to look at all the photos on his profile.  
TJ Kippen says: Consider this me officially sliding into your DM’s.

Cyrus feels the laughter bloom on his chest. Bono is singing in the background, asking again and again what is going on, and Cyrus can’t help but ask himself the same question.

It’s three in the morning, he just did the most unprofessional show of his life and he really doesn’t know what is going on. But he doesn’t care. 

-

_And the next song is You give love a bad name, by Bon Jovi. Yes, maybe you have rubbed a little bit on me after all these months; Now stop sending me texts, finish your essay and go to sleep, Teej._

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on tumblr @kippenscore. Come cry with me about the cancellation.


End file.
